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Tokyo, Japan is the largest city in the world. Twenty different sub cities make up its massive boundaries, covering hundreds of miles in diameter. The central hub of residential commerce of the city lies in the Bunkyo ward, a sub city with a population of just under two hundred thousand. Thousands of people travel through here every day, with the Shinkansen bullet train thundering straight through its heart. The doors of the train swung open as two women stumbled out from the side. Both of them were drunk almost beyond human imagination.
The blond, dressed in a kimono with red and orange flames arching up the sides, staggered over to a bench with her friend, who was dressed in a black and grey kimono with white roses, not far behind. Her friend was an Asian woman, born and raised in the mainland, but now living in the United States.
“I cannot believe we just *hic* did that!” said the blond.
“This *hic* this is the greatest day of my life!” slurred the brunette unintelligently.
“You’re a crazy bitch Celeste, you know that right?”
“This is your *hic* all your fault, Patricia-”
“You’re the one that took things too far,” said the Japanese woman throwing up her hands in defense.
Celeste buried her face in her palms,
“If the police catch us we’ll be *hic* deported; you know that right?”
Patricia begins to laugh,
“It was worth it to get that stick out of your ass. That reminded me of the good old days before you got knocked up *hic*. Me and you would travel all over California tearing shit up. I love it!”
Things had all started a couple days ago; Celeste had fallen in a slump following the Redemption pay per view. She had missed out on becoming a world champion, and she had been bested by a guy who wasn't even a real robot. To make matters worse, her husband decided that he needed to spend some male bonding time with his son, and left her alone in Sacramento on her time off. Patricia had shown up on her doorstep, and in an effort to cheer her up, forced her to go on a random trip to Japan with her.
What started out as a day of harmless fun at a Sailor Moon convention turned sour; during the Q and A panel featuring the creators of the new Sailor Moon anime, someone mentioned Sailor Cosmos’s failure against Sailor Chaos, and whether or not she was a shitty person for abandoning her duty as protector of the galaxy. As a result Celeste began to suffer PTSD Vietnam War like flashbacks of her recent failures in WZCW. She screamed, created a scene, and steamrolled about a dozen horrified cosplayers on her way out of the building.
In an attempt to cheer her up, Patricia took her to a bar just outside the Minato ward. She sighed as she plopped the empty cup onto the table. The sake bit like fire, but boy did it hit the spot just right, giving her a nice little buzz.
The quiet serenity of the bar was suddenly shattered by the sound of motorcycles as they pulled into the entrance way. The owner shouted in Japanese as a dozen bikers tore their way through the door; immediately all of the other patrons got up and left.
“What did he say?” Celeste asked Patricia, motioning to the owner.
“Apparently it’s just a biker gang; I’d ignore them.”
“More sake,” she said to the owner, pushing her empty bowl towards him.
“There are biker gangs in Japan?”
“Yeah, but they’re nothing like the Hell’s Angels or anything. They’re small time. Yakuza is what you’ve got to watch out for here.”
The leader of the bikers walked over to the bar stopping right behind the two women. He leaned over and rested his arm on the edge of the bar beside Celeste. He looked her up and down, obviously surprised to see an American woman in his local watering hole.
“I don’t like gaijns in my bar, but I’ll make an exception for you,” he said in broken English.
“Hey asshole!” said Patricia,
“Can’t you see we’re trying to drink here?”
What followed was a barrage of insults spouted in a foreign language that the author cannot translate. The English word cunt was thrown around once or twice, which lead to an already drunk Patricia threatening to sodomize the man with a sake bottle. The rest of the gang surrounded them as the Asian brunette continued to pick a fight with the biker.
“How about we settle this with a drinking game?” asked Patricia.
“Or me and my tomodachi could just have our way with both of you and toss you out like garbage,” he responded with a lecherous grin.
“Wait!” said Celeste,
“We don’t want to fight; the drinking game, if you win I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
The biker began to laugh,
“You’re on kirei-”
“You’re a biker right?” she said cutting him off.
“Let’s see your bike.”
The man smiled as he and his buddies led the two women outside to a group of choppers lined up in a row in the parking lot. He walked up to a red and white Harley Davidson custom chopper.
A sign on the back written in kanji caught Celeste’s attention,
“Anyone caught touching this bike will be strangled by their own intestines,” Patricia translated.
“How cute, did your mommy right that for you?” she teased.
Two of the other bikers stepped forward, but the leader called them off.
“Do you like what you see?” he asked as Celeste looked the bike up and down.
She nodded in approval,
“If I win the drinking game, then I get your bike.”
He grinned like a madman, before rearing back and slapping her on the ass as she turned to leave. Celeste gasped in surprise, as Patricia barely stifled a fit of drunken laughter. Once inside the man started to order a bottle of sake but Celeste stopped him.
“Do you have any vodka?” she asked the owner.
His eyes went wide, as he reached down below the bar searching for her alcohol of choice. She not only came from a family of accomplished fighters on her mother’s side, but many of her kin were drunks as well. In fact, one of the reasons why her father, who had been well known in prison for making and hustling toilet hooch, fell for her mother was because she could drink him clean under the table.
The owner rose brandishing a bottle of wasabi flavored vodka and handed it to Patricia, who threw a couple of thousand yen notes his way. Celeste sat across from the biker leader on a small round table, as Patricia placed the bottle of vodka and two shot glasses in the center. The biker poured himself a glass and held it to his lips. He licked the rim with his tongue before lewdly flicking the liquid with it in a chauvinist fashion. Celeste smiled and held up her glass, downing the liquid in one straight go.
Patricia cheered her on; sitting down at the bar, she slipped the owner a few more notes, ordering an entire bottle of sake for herself. Seconds turned into minutes, and the small table was now littered with shot glasses. Celeste downed another shot, before gingerly placing down it beside an impressive stack of fifteen others, along with two empty bottles of liquor. The biker leader followed suit, but it was obvious that he was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, when he placed the glass on its side.
“Have you *hic* had enough?” she slurred drunkenly.
“No way,” he responded.
“I’ll be *hic* tapping your fine ass tonight; just wait and see.”
“Yaaaay Celeste! *hic*” cried Patricia. The now empty sake bottle now lay on its side next to her; she was drunk off her ass with Celeste not far behind.
“You can do it! Just one more! One more shot! One more shot! Wheeeeeew!”
She raised another glass to her lips and, following some hesitation, downed it like a boss. She clenched the glass in her hand like her life depended on it, and with great skill she guided it down and placed it neatly next to the others.
“You trn…” she mumbled suddenly feeling dizzy.
The biker raised the glass to his lips and copied the same feat; he sat almost suspended in the air as the glass suddenly fell from his grip and onto the ground. He wobbled for a half second before falling face first onto the table and then onto the ground.
Patricia exploded from her chair, and raised Celeste’s arm in victory.
“The winner and undisputed drinking champion of the world! Celeeeeeeste Crimmmmmson!”
She turned to the rest of the shocked looking bikers, many of whom had also gotten plastered while watching the spectacle and were now tending to their leader, bent over and started spanking herself on the rear.
“Kiss my ass, motherfuckers!”
“We won, so let’s blow this *hic* dump.”
Celeste stood up, and used the table to brace herself. The world was spinning, and it was all that she could do without passing out herself. Patricia walked towards the door with Celeste in tow, but a few of the more sober bikers were blocking their path.
“That was an impressive thing you just pulled, defeating the boss like that,” he said in Japanese.
“But we weren’t planning on letting you leave even if you did win.” He finished with a sick smile and pulled out a knife.
“What he say?” asked Celeste.
Patricia, who was too drunk to translate, took one look at the knife and immediately knew the answer.
“I think we’re gonna be screwed.”
The others bikers surrounded them, winding themselves up by making wild catcalls and smiling like lunatics. The owner of the bar threatened to call the police, but Celeste talked him down.
“Normally I deplore violence,” she lied.
“But in this case I’ll make an exception.”
The bikers started to laugh and moved in closer.
“There are two of you and ten of us,” one of them replied drunkenly.
“A man can never have too much property; you’ll be riding with me as my bitch blondie,” another responded in Japanese.
“What did he say?”
“He wants to plow you, obviously. *hic* Dumbass,” replied Patricia.
Celeste smiled deviously, her expression so foreign that it caught a few of the bikers off guard.
“Mei-Mei,” she said, addressing her friend by her given name.
“I’ll take the five on this side and you-”
Patricia cut her friend off with a war cry, and decked the man in front her without warning. Laughing like a crazy person she began swinging at everything in sight; Celeste immediately joined the fray, and soon a full out bar room brawl had exploded, pitting two drunk-off-their-asses martial arts masters dressed as Sailor Moon against a dozen bikers, half of whom were also plastered.
Celeste kicked one of the men in the face, while grounding another with a sambo take down. Patricia took one guy down with a leg sweep before breaking his arm in two places. She continued to pound away on another, knocking him out cold him a knee strike to the temple.
“Whaaaaaaaahahaha *hic* is that all you’ve got!?”
“Just what the hell are these women?” cried one of the bikers, before having his nose broken by an elbow to the face.
One of the bikers tried to hit Celeste with a chair, but to his surprise she overpowered him, and threw him over the bar. Patricia grabbed another guy by the hair and continuously pounded his face against the hard wood before launching him over a table. The leader of the biker gang got to his feet, and wielding a knife lunged at Celeste. She saw the strike coming and dodged out of instinct; getting behind the man, she lifted him up and slammed him through the table behind her with a German suplex.
Standing over him, she placed one foot over his balls, stomping on his genitals as he cried out in pain. Reaching down, she tore his keys from his pants before dangling them in front of him.
“I’ll be taking this as a trophy,” she said, howling in laughter.
Patricia threw a wad of notes at the owner, before stumbling out after her friend who was already starting the bike.
“Are we really going to *hic* steal the guy’s bike?”
“Hell yeah, we’re going to *hic* steal that asshole’s bike,” Celeste responded repping the engine as the bike roared to life.
Patricia climbed on back as Celeste peeled out of the parking lot, swerving the bike onto the road like a maniac. Her blood alcohol level was now five times that of the maximum legal limit, had they been pulled over in California they have been arrested faster than the bikers would have realized they just got the shit beaten out of them by Sailor Moon.
It took everything she had to keep the bike on road, lucky none of the bikers had followed them, and traffic was scare until they reached the limits of the Shinagawa ward. They ditched the bike in the city, went to a store, and bought a pair of kimonos to wear as disguises. An hour later they found themselves sitting on a bench next to the Shinkansen station, still completely wasted, trying to plan their next move.
“What do you *hic* want to do now?” asked Patricia, pulling out a fat wad of notes stuffed inside of her bra.
“Where’d you get all that money?”
“I stole it; those baka’s ruined the *hic* only feel good moment I’ve had with you in months.”
Celeste shook her head,
“Do you want to go to a casino?”
“There are no casinos here, it’s illegal in Japan,” she replied.
Jesus Christ, what kind of *hic* uptight, rigid country is this?”
“Now you know why I decided to leave; we should have just gone to Vegas-”
“We’d be in jail for sure, the LVPD doesn’t mess around; I’ve got a cousin on the force over there. The last thing I’d want is for Laxus to *hic* bail our asses out of jail.”
“If you want to go to a casino; I know someplace where we *hic* could go,” said Patricia.
“But?” asked Celeste, waiting for the catch.
“It’ll be funded by the Yakuza, so we’ll have to *hic* watch ourselves. Beating up bikers is one thing, but I don’t want to get into a war with people that can show up on my doorstep back in Northern Cali.”
“Alright, fine, I’ll behave myself if *hic* you do,” Celeste responded getting to her feet.
“So lead the way.”
The women hailed a taxi, which took them to an isolated part of the ward. The buildings looked run down and dilapidated, but Patricia still seemed to know her way around quite well. She stopped in front of a plain two story building with no windows.
“Where are we?” asked Celeste as she stared up at the building.
“The boonies of Bunkyo,” she replied.
“How do you know about these *hic* types of places, Patricia?” she asked with skepticism.
She rolled her eyes,
“if we went to Russia, you’d know your way around Moscow’s shady places right?”
Celeste opened her mouth, but Patricia cut her off,
“it’s the same thing.”
The duo walked up to the large hollow steel frame metal door, as Patricia banged on the door several times. A tall Japanese man dressed in a suit answered them a few seconds later. She and Celeste bowed deeply, as the brunette began to ask the man in Japanese if they could use the casino.
“What do you say *hic* Onii-san?” she asked seductively.
The man nodded and waved them through; as she flashed Celeste the victory sign.
“The Kageyami charm always works.”
“Oh? Then why do you have to *hic* resort to flashing your breasts in order to get special treatment in the States?”
“It’s not like you have real talent to show off anyway,” she teased poking the slightly shorter woman playfully in the tit.
“Excuse me? I’ll have you know that the twins are *hic* perfectly proportional to my body, unlike the mountain range you’re packing. How you don’t have constant back problems, I’ll never understand.”
The underground casino was small, with only a few tables and a handful of games; but at the same time it was also extravagant, nothing looked run down, everything looked decorative, and it gave off an almost western vibe with the layout. It was obvious that the organization was Yakuza funded.
“I’m gonna go hit the bar,” Patricia said has she staggered away.
“Haven’t you *hic* had enough?” asked Celeste.
“Never! Want me to bring you something?”
“Surprise me,” she responded.
The tables were hosting five card stud instead of the more commonly known variant of Texas Hold’em. She sat down at one of the tables, and was about to cash in for a thousand yen when a loud, booming voice suddenly drew her attention. She turned around to see a large muscular black man, with a giant afro. He was holding a cigar in one hand and his cards in the other. The dealer dealt one final round as the man cursed and threw his hand down.
“I swear these sucka’s are tryin’ to cheat me.”
Celeste got up and walked over to the man,
“S-Saxton? Is that *hic* you?”
He turned around to see a tall American woman dressed in a formal kimono, a rarity in this part of the city, walking towards him. Her blond hair was done up in pigtails and it was obvious that she was plastered.
“Well hello sexy mama,” and then her identity hit him as his eyes widened.
“C-Celeste? What are you doing here?”
She walked over to the table and sat down beside him,
“I’m here on vacation. My asshole husband took my son on a *hic* manly bonding trip and left me by myself. I came here with a girlfriend,” she finished, motioning towards Patricia who was staggering towards them with a bottle of sake in hand.
“Well hello tall, dark, and handsome,” she swooned taking a seat next to Saxton.
He raised an eyebrow and took a puff of his cigar as Celeste made the introductions,
“Saxton, this is my good friend *hic* Mei-Mei Kageyami-”
“Call me Patricia,” she said lustfully.
“Charmed,” replied Saxton, unimpressed.
“You know Saxton just became one half of the WZCW tag team champions a few weeks back,” explained Celeste.
“I’ve always been a sucker for a man who dresses in gold,” Patricia replied inching closer to him. Saxton flinched as he caught a whiff of the woman’s breath; she was just as plastered as Celeste.
“I was a champion myself, in the Olympics; I never won gold though...”
“Oh, really?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
It made sense for Celeste, one of the most legit fighters in the company, to have a judo master for a best friend. He was now slightly less unimpressed.
“Is Sabotaur here with you, or are you flying solo?” asked Celeste.
Saxton turned around and pointed to the slot machines where an irritated looking Sabotaur was feeding the gluttonous machine yen coin after yen coin.
“Come on you bastard!” he shouted, pulling the lever. He watched the machine land on a star, and then another star, before coming to a stop on a circle.
“Motherfucker!” he shouted. He kicked the machine before hurling the bar stool across the room.
One of the owners confronted him, only for him to start a diatribe about a conspiracy against him, and how greedy the Japanese people were. He looked up to see Saxton talking to two attractive women wearing kimonos; as he got closer he could have sworn that the blond woman looked an awful lot like…
“Sabotaur!” Celeste shouted as she jumped up and embraced him in an awkward hug.
The masked man pushed her back with surprise,
“Celeste? What are you doing here?”
“I’m *hic* here on vacation.”
It was obvious that she was drunk; it was a side of her that he had never seen before, and he found it humorous. Celeste introduced him Patricia, who barely acknowledged him as she fawned over Saxton.
“We are too,” he responded,
“Or at least we were until we ran into some trouble.”
“Trouble, what kind of trouble,” she asked.
“It’s nothing,” he said trying to change the subject.
“I just can’t get over how greedy this casino is,” he raged.
“I’ve spent God knows how much yen on those slot machines and I haven’t won jack!”
“Hey now,” said Celeste trying to calm him down,
“Every day can’t be a lucky day.”
“Gambling isn’t about luck, Celeste. It’s about probability. There’s no way that I can continuously feed these machines money, and not even win the small jackpot. There’s a conspiracy going on here-”
“I agree brotha,” cut in Saxton.
“Those sucka’s used stripped decks, and I kept getting the same pairs of cards every other hand; the way they had things set up the dealer was always gonna to win.”
“Are all casinos in Japan like this,” Sabotaur asked Patricia off hand.
“What do mean other casinos?”
“There are other casinos in the city right?” he said with deadpan delivery.
“Not that I know of,” she replied.
“Gambling is illegal in Japan.”
If one could see through his mask, Sabotaur would have been wearing an 'oh shit' expression like he had just lit his house on fire.
“What are you talkin’ about?” demanded Saxton.
“I didn’t *hic* stutter, did I?” she slurred.
“Casinos in this area are funded by the Yakuza, so you gotta be careful.”
Sabotaur was suddenly feeling faint; really faint. Saxton got to his feet and swore before taking another drag of his cigar. All of the sudden things had gotten quiet inside the casino, way too quiet. Looking around Celeste couldn’t see anyone else in the building except for the four of them. The sound of clapping filled the air as they turned to see a man in a suit standing by the entrance way.
“It’s good to see you again, Action Saxton and Sabotaur,” he said grinning like a madman.
“Aw, not this jive mothafucka again!” shouted Saxton.
“How did you get out of your bondage gimp suit?” demanded Sabotaur.
“What’s going on!” said Celeste.
“Who is this guy?”
“Silence!” screamed the man.
“I have no intention of letting any of you go. I’ll show you what happens when you mess with the Yakuza!”
He stepped aside as a dozen figures dressed in black marched into the casino gallery.
“Ninjas!?” screamed Celeste.
“Oh shit,” said Sabotaur.
“Damn! Coming here was trap all along, Sabotaur, you jive sucka!”
“What the hell did you guys do!” shouted Patricia, almost in hysterics.
The ninjas had them surrounded, and there was no way out. The four of them banded together, trying to figure out how to survive when an explosion rocked the building taking everyone by surprise. Celeste watched in a drunken induced haze as a dozen more figures stepped through the hole in the wall. They were bikers, the same one’s that Celeste and Patricia had beaten up and robbed earlier that day.
“Oh fuck my life!” said Celeste.
“Bikers?” asked Sabotaur.
“Who the hell are you people!?” demanded the man in the suit. The leader of the bikers, now sober, stepped forward and pointed towards Celeste and Patricia.
“We’re taking our revenge on those two bitches right there!”
Celeste, Patricia, Saxton, and Sabotaur now found themselves surrounded on all sides with no hope for escape.
“Alright, anyone want to share how their day went?” Celeste slurred.
“We ran into the Yakuza earlier today, and we got into a fight over sushi, so we beat them up and robbed them,” said Sabotaur.
“And we ran into the bikers earlier today, they tried to *hic* rape us; so we beat them up and robbed them,” explained Patricia.
“Damn!” said Saxton, now totally interested in the Asian woman.
All hell broke loose as the ninjas and bikers charged, creating a free for all brawl within the casino. Celeste and Patricia immediately started to swing at anyone or anything that came their way, as Saxton extinguished his cigar on his tongue before slugging a biker that got to close. Sabotaur drew his katana, and with low smooth strokes started to mow down all the ninjas that came his way. Soon chaos had reigned completely as the bikers and ninjas were soon fighting each other, instead of those that they had come to kill.
“Watch out li’l momma,” Saxton said as he caught a biker trying to cheap shot Patricia from behind. He picked him up in a display of raw power put him through the poker table with a spinebuster.
He watched in amusement and slight arousal as Patricia took a ninja down with a judo throw, and continuously elbowed him in the temple until he lost consciousness. Celeste dodged a ninja’s katana before kicking him into the slot machines. Sabotaur watched in amazement as all of the slots activated and simultaneously landed on the jackpot, raining yen coins all over the casino.
“Mother of God,” he said in awe, before running to get his bag. He started to stuff the coins in like his life depended on it.
When the bag felt full he started to swing it around like a weapon, knocking down bikers and ninjas as he went. Suddenly he felt his intuitions acting up as he began to sense an ever greater danger approaching the casino. He sheathed his sword, grabbed his bag of money, and ran out the giant hole in the side of the building as fast as he could.
“Where is he going?” cried Celeste, flooring a ninja with a flurry of stiff punches.
“Uh, oh,” said Saxton to himself as he watched Sabotaur leave out of the corner of his eye.
“Celeste! Li’l momma! We got to get the fuck outta here now!” he bellowed as he took off running towards the stairs leading to the second floor.
Celeste gasped as she heard sirens closing in on the casino,
“Patricia, the police!”
“Crap!” she yelled, kicking a biker in the ribs one last time as she half ran, half stumbled after Saxton and Celeste.
The bikers and ninjas continued to fight each other until the sounds of sirens inched closer and closer. Suddenly the building exploded as a volley of police officers and S.A.T forces rained down on the building taking out every single person within their line of sight. On the roof Saxton, Celeste, and Patricia could hear the sound of the police taking the bikers, the ninjas, and the Yakuza boss into custody.
“What do we do, Saxton?” asked Patricia.
“We’re trapped up here.”
“No we’re not,” he said, pointing into the horizon.
Celeste heard the sound of whirling blades and watched, drunkenly stupefied, as a helicopter flew over to the casino and hovered above them. Saxton grabbed the rope ladder that was already hanging down and instructed the two ladies to start climbing. In the cockpit, Sabotaur watched as the trio secured themselves to the rope ladder before slowly flying away.
“Since when can Sabotaur fly a helicopter?” Celeste asked Saxton as the trio continued to climb, looking down over the city below.
“It was news to me too; that jive sucka didn’t even tell me until we stole this bird from the Yakuza.”
“You guys stole a helicopter?” she asked impressed.
“All we *hic* stole was a motorcycle.”
“So where are we going now?” said Patricia as the trio secured themselves inside the helicopter.
“Dunno, sweat cheeks; wherever the world takes us,” he replied.
Celeste looked out the window as the copter flew close to the Tokyo Dome; she could see the lights on bright, as the sun slowly set into dusk behind them. She looked at the sign, WZCW were having a show tonight!
“Hey guys, look! WZCW is here in Tokyo, and they’re doing a show tonight! I thought we were on vacation this week?”
“We are; that’s All Stars they’re doing. They are the minor leagues.”
“But still, I bet whomever’s in charge will *hic* let me compete if I ask-”
“Sweetie no, you’re plastered,” said Patricia.
“You can’t *hic* go out there and compete.”
“Bitch please; you’re drunker than I am.”
She walked over to cockpit and tapped on the glass as Saxton and Patricia got further acquainted with each other,
“Sabotaur, do you think you can land this thing over by the Tokyo Dome?”
“Sure thing, madam,” he replied, slowing the copter into a descent.
---------------------------------------------------------
Stacey Madison stood outside the entrance of the Tokyo Dome with a camera crew as she brownnosed the rowdy Japanese audience just one hour before the doors were scheduled to open. Tonight was a special night as it marked only the second time in history that WZCW hosted it’s All Stars show, where characters of all types gathered together to entertain the masses while the regular superstars were away.
She was about the pack things up when she heard a loud thumping noise closing in on her; she looked up and gasped as she saw a helicopter land in the middle of the mezzanine, amidst all the screaming fans. She watched a blonde dressed in a kimono climb out of the cargo hold, and stumble her way towards her only to immediately fall on her ass. She rushed over to try and help the woman, but she stopped dead when she saw who it was.
“C-Celeste…”
She was at a loss for words; the last time she saw Celeste Crimson, she had told both her and Becky Serra off, and had hurt both of them dearly. Even though she would never admit this out loud she was secretly glad that Celeste had lost at Redemption. In her opinion, the woman’s obsession over the title was slowly turning her back into the monster she used to be. The cameraman started to film, not wanting to miss any moment with the WZCW legend.
“Heeey!” Celeste said as she got to her feet.
“If it isn’t my *hic* good friend Stacey Madison!”
She walked over and picked the smaller blond up in a bear hug, spinning her around. Stacey caught one whiff of the larger woman’s breath and nearly threw up on herself. She backed away, with her hand over her nose.
“Are you drunk?”
“Drunk? Nonsense!” she screamed.
“I feel great! I feel alive!”
“W-what are you doing here in Japan?”
“Imma *hic* here on vacation,” she said.
“I saw the lights from the Tokyo Dome and I saw WZCW’s logo. Is there a show tonight?”
“Yeah… WZCW All Stars 2.”
“Aw, come on Stacey, don’t be like that,” she said. Celeste walked over and draped her arm across the smaller blonds shoulder.
“You’re not still mad at me *hic* for what I said to you all those weeks ago?”
“I wanna say that I am really sorry for what happened, and I never meant to hurt you. Let’s be friends again.”
Stacey looked into the larger woman’s eyes; they were completely bloodshot.
“What happened to you tonight?”
She laughed,
“Went to a bar, got wasted, fought some bikers, fought some ninjas; you know, the usual.”
Stacey looked shocked; drunken Celeste uncharacteristically reminded her of drunken Drake Cahallan and that wasn’t something she was prepared to deal with right now.
“So tell me more about All Stars; I need to more about it if I’m going to compete.”
“What?”Stacey asked. She was so shocked that she pushed the larger woman away.
“You can’t compete tonight, you’re a WZCW superstar; All Stars is for gimmick talent only.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’ll need a gimmick to compete?” she asked as Stacey nodded.
The anchor took a slight step back as Celeste’s eyes suddenly lit up brighter than the skylight behind her. She tore off her kimono, revealing her Sailor Moon costume beneath it. Stacey’s jaw nearly hit the ground.
“No fucking way-”
“I am no longer Celeste Crimson!” she yelled, staring into the camera.
“I’m Sailor Moon! Champion of justice…and other stuff!”
The cameraman continued to film as Celeste posed and danced around for the fans in the mezzanine, while Stacey buried her face in her hands,
“Oh god, why? Why do you hate me?”
She was considering having a drink later on, but seeing Celeste’s sorry state made her want to live a life of immediate and permanent sobriety. Celeste stumbled towards her and put her arm around her shoulder again.
“So, now that I have a *hic* gimmick tell me about a few of the matches; are they any openings?”
“I’m not a booker,”she explained.
“But I think there is an opening in the women’s match-”
“Women’s match?” asked Celeste, intrigued.
“There are women competing on All Stars? How many?”
“Originally there were going to be five, but one dropped out-”
“Who’s in charge? Is it Vance Bateman, or Chuck Miles? I bet it’s Bateman; he’ll let me in the match for sure,” she slurred unintelligently, as she began to walk away.
“Where are you going?”
“To find whoever’s running the show, and ask to be put in the women’s match-”
“You can’t just do that-”
“I can try,” she said.
“And if asking doesn’t work, I’ll just flash him. He’ll let me in for sure then.”
She pushed out her breasts as emphasis, as Stacey looked horrified.
“No! Wait, Celeste don’t you want to hear about your opponents?”
“My opponents?” she asked, suddenly forgetting where she was.
“Oh yeah my opponents! Well *hic* tell me about them Stacey.”
She walked over and resumed the position of putting her arm around the smaller woman’s shoulder.
“First there’s a woman you might recognize, Isabel Stone?”
Celeste shook her head,
“She signed with the company about a month ago; she’s competed on Aftershock and everything,” Stacey finished.
“What? Really? There was another woman on the regular *hic* roster and no one informed me?” she slurred.
“What’s she like?”
Stacey opened her mouth to answer but Celeste cut her off,
“Never mind, I’ll just have to find out for myself when I’m in the ring with her. Alright who else, who else?”
Stacey went on to describe both Annie Mu and Erin Toyota, two superstars borrowed from an all women’s organization called ROSE.
“What!?” she screamed.
“You better not be messing with me Madison; you’re telling me that Erin is an actual robot, and not a woman trying to be a robot?”
Stacey nodded up and down, as Celeste jumped for joy,
“That’s awesome, Stacey. I’ve always wanted to fight a robot, and I was so disappointed when SHIT turned out to be a fake.”
“Alright, what about the last one?”
“She a woman named Trixie; from what I can tell she’s a big fan of that My Little Pony kids show. I can’t tell you anything more as I’ve never seen it.”
Celeste became unusually quiet considering that she was so riled up only seconds before,
“That’s one of Sandy’s favorite shows; do you think she’s anything like Sandy, Stacey?”
She shook her head,
“I-I don’t think she’s anything like Sandy, Celeste.”
She smiled and took the microphone from her and walked up to the camera,
“Although there’s nothing on the *hic* line for me, no World title, no Number 1’s contender spot, tonight is still a special night for me. And even though the women that face me are rookies compared to my tenure, I’m still going to have the time of my life! Why? Because I *hic* love this business! I love it enough to be here during my time off, to entertain all the fans!”
She paused to look around at all the fans around her watching her promo; it was moments like this that truly made her proud to be a pro wrestler.
“Tonight, for one night only *hic* I am not Celeste Crimson, WZCW’s legendary Submission Queen. I am Sailor Moon, the champion of justice… and other stuff! And in the name of the Moon I will punish all of you!”
She finished with the heroine’s famous gesture, before handing the microphone back to Stacey. Celeste turned and saluted the crowd before rearing back and spanking the smaller blond announcer on the ass. Stacey looked flabbergasted as she watched Celeste stumble drunkenly into the arena, having thoroughly enjoyed her day off.
She smiled,
“You’re right Celeste, I’m not mad at you anymore,” she said to herself.
“I hope you give them a show they’ll never forget.”
